Soul Thought

Friends in weird places

Friends in weird places

 

 

Hazel was starting to bug me so much I was actually starting to like her.

The girl was almost as stubborn as I am. Every day during lunch she would find whatever secluded spot I had hidden in, sit next to me and offer to share her meagre lunch. Honestly the girl had no more than I would if I had brought my lunch from home – but still she offered and I refused (mostly politely).

Until the day when my brain was so unfocused that I was afraid the purple elephant running rampant in my mind would burst onto the scene and trample everything in sight – not that I would really mind – ad when Hazel found the dark doorway I was hidden in she simply had to intrude, sitting with poise on the two wooden steps that led to the classroom. She asked if I wanted to share her lunch, and being so far away into my own world I agreed.

The smile that lit her face made me roll my eyes – the simplest of things made this girl happy. The most simple kindest was enough to make her smile ear-to-ear all day. She broke off a piece of her cake – something she had almost every day something that surprised me greatly considering the only other food she ever had was a simple sandwich and a bottle of water.

I smiled as the chocolate taste filled my mouth – it was exactly like the kind my grandmother used to make when I was a young girl, before my father had died, and my mother had decided she couldn’t stand the sight of me and sent me to boarding school.

Hazel watched as I finished my cake and she smiled, placing her own portion back into her lunchbox.

“You know, when I eat that cake, its vanilla with chocolate frosting. The same kind my brothers tried to help make when I was seven.”

I raised an eyebrow at her – her mumblings made no sense whatsoever. But I decided she was alright with me, if she was intent on becoming my friend, I may as well treat her like one.

The rest of the day Hazel and I chatted during class and spent the afternoon telling her about my life.

I told her about my dead father – and she didn’t say she was sorry which I liked. She seemed to understand about my mother’s mental breakdown regarding me (and my powers; not that Hazel knew that) and how she had sent me to Miss Hilary’s Boarding School for Girls and Boys.  I also told her about my favourite place on the roof, and after lights out was called I showed her how a rickety ladder (that I had created) came down from the manhole in our room, leading directly to the roof (she didn’t ask how that happened, and I didn’t explain)

Hazel sat a little bit away from me, staring at the night sky and mumbling about the constellations, sprouting little tid-bits of information that didn’t really have much to do with anything. I brought out my sketchpad and started drawing the night sky with a few differences – I added an extra star here and there, made the moon brighter and more luminescent.

When I placed the last line of the drawing I looked up, stunned to see the moon shinning brighter than I had remembered, and stars in the middle of constellations that I knew hadn’t been there an hour beforehand. Hazel’s eyes shot to me and I almost panicked, I was pretty sure I could erase the stars on the paper and in the sky, but I wasn’t sure my power worked that way – I had never erased anything before – after a while it all simply faded.

Hazel’s eyes stayed locked on mine for a moment longer and I was sure I was caught out; I would have to start explaining truthfully, or make a lie to explain the stars she seemed to know everything about had inexplicitly changed in a few moments. Hazel turned away, her eyes lifting to the stars and my heart rate skyrocketed – oh god, she was going to start demanding answers – Hazel shrugged nonchalantly and turned away, disappearing down the ladder into our room below.